


melt!

by winnehield



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Short & Sweet, married people (derogatory)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28135926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winnehield/pseuds/winnehield
Summary: Linhardt tries drinking coffee. He doesn't enjoy it all that much.
Relationships: Hapi/Linhardt von Hevring
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	melt!

**Author's Note:**

> hii..... i felt bad for deleting the last linhapi but also i really hated it so. instead i bring my brand: pointless fluff. thank you for coming. i havent read this over i am using all my bravery today to post this <3 its not very obvious but its named after hatsune miku song

“What are you drinking?” Linhardt sits up for the first time all day, giving Hapi and her steaming mug a longing look. He’s spent most of the day in bed, curled up underneath some two or three blankets for warmth. There’s a pleasant, rich smell wafting through the room, though it’s not one Linhardt thinks he recognizes. 

She glances down at her mug, and then back at Linhardt, holding the cup out as an offering. “Coffee. You want a sip?” 

“Ah… is it good?” 

He’s not so sure he’s ever had coffee before. The process of making it always seemed so long to him, and having to put all that effort into grinding the beans and waiting for it to brew just seems so  _ much _ that he’s never bothered with it before. Even when Hubert would offer to bring him some, just to keep him awake during war councils, he had adamantly refused to take anything Hubert gave him in favor of more sleep. 

Hapi nods, a hint of enthusiasm showing in her eyes. She pushes the mug into his hands, the warmth from the drink doing wonders for Linhardt’s cold hands. He sniffs it cautiously. It smells good. Very good, actually. 

Linhardt takes a sip. Immediately, he’s met with an overwhelming bitterness on his tongue. Not only does it taste  _ too _ bitter, it burns his tongue to boot. Hapi begins laughing at whatever face he makes- and he’s positive he’s making a face, mind you, because there’s genuinely no way Linhardt can pretend that the coffee doesn’t taste terrible. 

Swallowing it is a struggle. He wants the coffee out of his mouth  _ now, _ but every muscle in his body suddenly refuses to move. 

“You wanna go spit it out?” Hapi’s grinning at him, plucking her abhorrent little mug out of his hands. “You don’t have to swallow it if you don’t like it, Linny.” 

He refuses to get out of bed. Linhardt forces the coffee down, cringing at the acidic aftertaste left on his tongue. It takes him a moment to compose himself, Hapi’s snickering doing absolutely  _ nothing _ to help. 

“That was terrible,” he croaks out. “I can’t believe you’re willingly drinking that. It tastes like burnt leaves.” 

“It is not terrible. You’d probably like it better if I put some milk in it,” Hapi laughs. She takes a sip of her coffee, and Linhardt wonders briefly if she’s trying to tease him, or if she just legitimately thinks that it tastes good. 

But then Hapi leans over to kiss him on the lips, knowing full well she’ll taste like terrible, bitter coffee, and then Linhardt knows for sure that she’s teasing him. He tries to kiss her back- he loves kissing his wife, no matter what she’s eaten- but the coffee taste is too much for him in the end. He pulls back, doing his best to act affronted. 

“You’re aware that kissing me won’t make it taste any better, yes?” 

She nods sagely. “Yup. But sugar will. Come on,” she hums, standing up and gesturing for him to follow. “Come on, Linny.” 

Linhardt has half a mind to complain and burrow back into his cocoon of warmth. It took him a  _ long _ while to warm up when he first got into bed, and the thought of having to redo all that work makes him want to shrivel up and sleep for a thousand years. But if Hapi is so sure she can fix him a cup of coffee that he’ll like…

“Fine. Give me a moment,” Linhardt sighs. He stands up, tugging one of the lighter blankets around his body like an oversized cloak. It takes a bit of work to ensure nothing drags on the floor- they sweep nearly every day, yes, but it still seems wrong. 

Hapi leads him into the tiny kitchen of their tiny home, grabbing a second mug and pouring coffee into it. Another thick wave of coffee-smell floods the room, warm and inviting and entirely fake. It pains Linhardt to think about it. How could something that smells so good taste so bad? 

There’s not much for him to say as he watches Hapi fix him a cup of coffee. She puts milk and sugar in it, stirs it, and then holds it out for him. He takes it, examining it with the utmost caution. The coffee is lighter in color now, not unlike the weird cream-brown one would find on a cat or a chicken’s egg. 

He lifts it up. Blows on it, unwilling to burn himself again, even if he doesn’t think a little puff of air will do anything for him. Then he takes the smallest of sips, to ensure he doesn’t get stuck with a mouthful of something he hates again, only to find that he doesn’t hate this version nearly as much as he did the other. 

It’s… better. The milk mellows out the acidity and the bitterness, the sugar sweetens it to something within his comfort zone, and the resulting flavor is far more tolerable. Nice, even. He takes a second sip, valiantly ignoring Hapi’s knowing, smug stare directed at him and his cup. Maybe, like this, he could drink an entire pot of it. Is this how Hapi feels, drinking nearly a whole pot every day? 

Linhardt thinks he understands now. He takes another sip, relishing in the heat and the soft taste that spreads through his body. 

Hapi takes a sip from her own cup. “So? Better?” 

“Much.” Linhardt punctuates his sentence with another drink. Then something occurs to him. He regards Hapi’s cup with disdain. “You don’t put anything in your coffee, then? Is that why it tasted horrible?” 

“I don’t like milk,” she says, as if that’d explain anything at all. Hapi shrugs. “And it just tastes better without anything in it, I think. You get more flavor like that.” 

Linhardt’s brow furrows. “I didn’t get much flavor at all, unless you count  _ burnt _ as a flavor.” 

She rolls her eyes, a pleased smile spreading across her face. “It was not burnt, you big baby. Besides. I was right, wasn’t I?” 

She was. Hapi was extremely right, and they both know it. But Linhardt doesn’t want to admit defeat, at least not right now, so instead he takes a swig of his coffee so he won’t be able to respond.

It’s answer enough for her regardless- she smiles at him, all mirth and love, and Linhardt feels a different kind of warmth bloom in his chest. 

**Author's Note:**

> hapi absolutely drinks her coffee black. linhardt is weak he cannot


End file.
